Albus Potter Year One
by Lightless
Summary: Harry's second son is off to Hogwarts. DH spoilers. Rated for later chapters.
1. Gryffindor

**Warning:** SPOILERS! MAJOR DH SPOILERS! Gasps!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters do not belong to me because if they did I would've wrote another book for its Epilogue and continued the series with James, Albus, Lily, Scorpius, Rose, Hugo, Teddy, Victoire, and all the like. But that's just me, and that's why I've started this fan fiction, because they're screaming that they deserve their stories told. Again, all characters (except for those new ones I planted in there) are copyrighted to J.K. Rowling and all her fabulous wealth.

**A/N:** This is going to be a long fic, so be warned.

**Albus Potter –Year One**

The younger son of Harry had been fidgeting nervously all throughout the train ride. On about the third try to pry out what was wrong with her cousin, Rose huffed and gave up, plastering her face to the window. It was all this time that Albus was reciting the stories of Hogwarts his older brother had partly made up in his head. He knew that his father had said that most of them weren't true, partly or no, but it was his only grasp at knowledge of his new school. But it wasn't the lore of the Whomping Willow or the invisible threstrals that was clogging up his mind. It was what his older brother had mentioned about the portraits of the headmasters and his father's parting words.

"_Albus Severus," Harry said quietly, so that nobody but Ginny could hear, and she was tactful enough to pretend to be waving to Rose, who was now on the train, "you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew."_

Yes, he was still a little worried about which house he was going to be placed in, but he thought he had time enough to worry about it when the Sorting Hat was placed upon his head. He was wondering about whether or not he'd be able to see the portraits of the headmasters he was named after. What if he didn't like them? What would he ever say to his father? No, he decided, if his father respected them enough to name his son after them, then he would give them proper respect whether or not he thought they deserved it.

"Al?" Rose waved a hand in front of where his distant gaze had ended up. Had he really been staring at her this whole time? He hadn't even noticed! He bit his lip for a bit, letting go of it to respond.

"Yes?"

"Could it be possible that you inherited more from my dad than your own?" She asked with a roll of her eyes.

He frowned, taking that as an insult of some kind. Rose thought her father annoying, but in a loving way. She'd told him countless times that she wished her father was somewhat more like Albus's. "Why?"

"Because you were staring blankly at me, like how Dad stares at Mom before she thwaps him upside the head." She huffed, crossing her arms in front of the violated area.

"I'm sorry – I didn't mean to." He mumbled back lamely. "I was thinking."

"About?" Her ginger brow was raised unbelievingly.

"Who I was named after." He replied truthfully, his gaze now directed to the great outdoors.

"Pfft, what a lame excuse, Al," James's voice rang in his ears. The younger brother quickly turned his head to see his brother with the lackeys he had conjured up. He was sure his brother had conjured them – they didn't seem human at all, more like ogre. Why hadn't they been sorted into Slytherin? They certainly looked the part.

Rose gave James a quick smirk, "Exactly what I was thinking."

James snickered, "Now, Al, you _do_ know she's your cousin, or did you hit your head on the way here?" He'd slipped into their car, plopping down next to his brother while two of his lackeys squeezed in next to Rose.

Albus gave an inward groan, "Why don't you go bug someone else?"

"Believe me, I would much rather do so, but all the other cars are full."

He frowned, decided to change the subject, "What are these lackeys' names again?" That question earned him dirty looks from both.

"They're not lackeys, they're my friends." James gave his brother a nice slap upside the head. "Show some respect to your elders for once."

"Fine, what are your _friends' _names?"

"Karl Finnegan and George Thomas, Dad knew their dads." He replied proudly, pointing to each one in turn. Now, they weren't as ogre-like as Albus first thought. They looked quite a bit like Seamus and Dean, the former having enough Chang blood in him to make him look like his Asian ancestry, but not enough to take away his father's self-proclaimed good looks. The latter was a mix of his parents, but it was apparent that most of Luna's genes had won out in the end. The boy was blond and had that same serene smile plastered on his face, though it appeared to have more of his father's features. Dean won out on what to name the child. And Al had to admit that they weren't so bad to look at after all.

George nodded politely while Karl simply gave a "humph" and turned to James. "So, what've you been doin' all summer?"

"Making sure this bloke stays out of trouble." He said with a shove to Albus.

Karl laughed, "It's times like these I'm glad to be an only child."

"You have _no _idea how lucky you are." Rose spoke up, groaning slightly. "Hugo is _so_ annoying."

"Yeah, tell me about it." James smirked to Rose, "Little Al and Lily are always going on about some story Dad told them that probably came out of a story book."

"Am not!" Al yelled to his defense, not liking being called little one bit. "Those stories are true; Father wouldn't lie about stuff like that!"

"Oh, come on, the Chamber of Secrets doesn't exist, everyone knows that!"

"Father said it does!" The younger brother replied quickly, turning back to face the window. He was no longer fidgeting, but fuming. He decided to drown out their conversation and concentrated on the sound of the tracks below them.

It surprised him how fast that train ride seemed. Father had always told him that Hogwarts was far away from any other human settlement, even Hogsmeade, so Albus had expected more of a train ride than that. He wasn't complaining, though, as this meant that James and he would finally go their separate ways. Al, now fully dressed in wizarding robes, followed his cousin out to hear a bellowing Hagrid call out for the first years. His father had told him plenty of stories about Hagrid, so Albus had no trouble following the friendly half-giant to where the boats lay. The boy also had no gripe when Hagrid didn't recognize him, because after all they had never met, he had his mother's face, and his hair was way too long, down to his midback, to be any resemblance to Harry, even if it was his father's color. He was glad his father had let him grow his hair out, as Al treasured this abnormality from the other students. Just as his father had his scar, he hoped he'd be able to leave a mark with his hair.

He felt relieved to be placed in the same boat as Rose, as he wanted to keep something familiar near him in case he burst from excitement. This was what he dreamed of – being part of Hogwarts, the school his father had attended and as he had explained to him many times, his first home. It may not be his first home, but Albus was determined to make it a second one as soon as possible.

The boat ride had finished all too quickly as well and the first years continued their journey towards the Grand Hall – and the Sorting Hat. Albus had accidentally bumped into Scorpius, who shot him a not-so-friendly look because of it.

"Sorry," Al muttered and continued along, snaking his way around other kids to separate himself from the Malfoy. They stopped their ascent of the staircase when they reached the Professor who greeted them at the top. From the looks of things, Minerva McGonagall was still alive and well for how old she was. Frail looking in her old age, but demanding respect at the same time, she fit the strict Christian granny character well. She had no hunch in her back though – she seemed too dignified to even be able to stoop to such normal unhealth, even when she was expected to die soon simply because of how long she had lived.

Albus looked upon her with awe. _This_ was the head of Gryffindor House. _This _was the woman he would look up to for years to come. He would honestly much rather have a grandmother like this instead of that absurd annoyance his mother called mum. Not that he didn't love his Grandma, she just got _very_ old _very _quickly. The young Potter shook his head, he shouldn't think like that. Grandma wasn't so bad…

"First years," called out the old woman, "in a moment you will pass through these doors and wait to be sorted. After you have the pleasure of learning which house you will be in the full seven years you have at Hogwarts, you will sit down with the rest of your house and wait patiently until the last first year is sorted. Professor Lovegood will speak, and afterwards there will be a feast. Now, if you will come this way. It is time." She turned and opened the giant double doors, walking swiftly through the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables with the eleven-year-olds falling behind her. Reaching the podium, she took a scroll from Xenophilius. Albus spotted Neville sitting at the table behind where Minerva and the headmaster stood next to Hagrid, and waved with a smile. Professor Longbottom waved back with a similiar smile.

"Albus Potter," McGonagall called, the scroll now held open. Stillness echoed throughout the room. Though most people were pretty certain that a Potter would be in Gryffindor, as both James had been, but there was always that area of doubt. The said child felt a chill go down his spine. Him first? He thought he'd have time to figure out how to convince the Sorting Hat not to put him in Slytherin first. A deep breath. Everyone was counting on him being in Gryffindor. He could feel their expectations on his shoulders as he walked getting heavier and heavier each passing second. As he took his seat on the stool and felt the Sorting Hat placed upon his head, he felt like he wasn't able to breath.

Which made him think, why did he _have_ to be in Gryffindor? What _was_ so bad about Slytherin?

"'Why do you have to be in Gryffindor? What's so bad about Slytherin?' you ask," the Sorting Hat mused, which made Albus wish the thought never accured to him, "Now, now, do not be ashamed of your thoughts, boy, for they are the thoughts of the second child of the Boy Who Lived. They hold much more relevance in this world than another's would. Now, let's see… I'm sure your father would like you to be in Gryffindor, no doubt, but this is not about your father, now, is it?"

With that, his thoughts flared again. He had been worrying about being in Slytherin before, but now he really wondered what it was like. Surely not all Slytherins were evil, as what his father said about his name. The bravest man he knew… Al felt a soft smile pass his lips.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat had bellowed, just as Albus had asked.


	2. Erumpent Horn

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, its characters, or Sierra Mist.

"_SLYTHERIN!"_ _the Sorting Hat had bellowed, just as Albus had asked._

Albus could hear the many gasps that followed. A Potter? In _Slytherin_?! Unheard of! Though the young boy did not look appalled, as most of the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs did, he was beaming instead. Perhaps it was because of the reaction he had gotten. That something that seemed impossible did indeed happen. He breathed a "thank you" to the Sorting Hat as it was pulled from his head, and the little blackette walked down to the Slytherin table and plopped down in the first seat he could find. Soon there was a thunderous amount of cheering from the green and silver section. Slughorn, who Albus recognized as the Head of Slytherin, was beaming with pride.

His eyes found Rose, who looked like she had the wind completely knocked out of her. Her own cousin was a Slytherin?! What would her father do to her if she continued to hang out with him? She knew he was kidding about disinheriting her, but he obviously was pull of Gryffindor pride. Her thoughts then drifted to her uncle, Al's father, the Boy Who Lived. Just what would he think? Her thoughts were so out of whack she hadn't heard her name called the first time.

"Rose Weasley!" McGonagall repeated, and the ginger-haired girl almost tripped on her way to the stool.

As the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, he muttered, "How come there are so many? GRYFFINDOR!" It was obvious. She was a Weasley, so therefore she got into Gryffindor. Why hadn't Albus been the same? His father was the one who defeated Voldemort! How could he have gotten placed into Slytherin, where so many Death Eaters and even Voldemort himself had emerged from?! She hadn't even noticed the Gryffindors cheering for her when she wandered over to her table. All her attention was directed at Albus. Why did he look so happy? Wasn't he worrying about being placed in Slytherin before? Oh, and what would his brother do to him?

James, who had feebly made room for his cousin in the Gryffindor table, was wondering the exact same things as Rose. The only difference was that he was pissed. Terribly pissed. He was always certain that Al would make Gryffindor, and now that he didn't, he was so pissed. With Rose totally confused and James fuming, neither of them noticed any of the other first years that were sorted, but Albus had.

"SLYTHERIN!" was called even before the Sorting Hat could be placed on Scorpius Malfoy's head. The younger Potter had cheered with the rest of the Slytherins on this new arrival, though he did hope that Malfoy didn't sit next to him. He didn't. He was seated next to another first year, who was rather large. Al thought he remembered his name as Greg Goyle or something of the like. He returned his attention to the Sorting Hat who had just shouted "RAVENCLAW!"

Al had missed who had just been sorted, but he didn't mind. Soon the last first year had been sorted, and after a few welcoming words from Professor Lovegood, the feast had started. As he was eating, Albus had noticed how old all the professors seemed. McGonagall obviously the oldest, Slughorn not far behind her. The only young one he noted was Neville, who in all honesty did not really look younger than the others. Though he did notice that Madam Pomfrey, whom he remembered as the school nurse, had a young assistant with her. Apparently she was training to become the successor, and she didn't look a day over the seventh year students. Might as well start fresh out of Hogwarts, Albus mused to himself.

He felt a bump, his head turning to where it came from. To his left he saw a second-year. "Sorry," she mumbled shyly and continued to stare at her food.

"Aren't you going to eat?" He quirked a brow at that, stuffing a fork-full into his mouth.

"No. I don't eat." She answered quietly. He swallowed.

"Why?"

"Because I'm fat." He blinked, taking a good look at her.

"You're not fat."

"Yes, I am."

"You don't look fat to me."

"Then maybe you're blind." She replied somewhat disgusted at how matter-of-factly he was arguing with her. Albus looked her over again; at least he knew why she ended up in Slytherin now. She was depressed. He couldn't see the cut marks on her wrists, but somehow he knew they were there.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not." He replied, continuing to stuff food into his mouth.

"Why did you end up in Slytherin?" She asked, "Aren't you a Potter?"

He swallowed and shrugged, "I guess the Sorting Hat needed a good laugh."

"Well, Potter, I'm sure you'll have a lovely time in Slytherin then." He couldn't tell if she meant for it to be sarcastic.

"Um, thank you?"

The conversation died down then, and he continued to eat in silence. He contemplated his choice during that time, wondering if he really should have chosen Slytherin. Most people from Slytherin were rude and sniveling little liars. He'd been taught that as he grew up, but still. The prospect intrigued him. He would make his father proud. Not because he was a Gryffindor, but because he was a Slytherin. Albus Severus Potter would not be afraid to have green and silver hug upon his bedroom walls. He would prove to the world that not all Slytherins end up evil. Quite a goal for an eleven-year-old, but he was determined to do it.

Soon the feast was over and everyone was dismissed to their dorms. Albus followed the older Slytherins to the Slytherin Common Room and quickly bounded up the stairs to find his dorm. It hadn't taken long – first years' dorms were the easiest to find. He first took in the room, in all its glory, alone thanks to his hastened stride. It was dark, as it was a Slytherin dorm, but it held an air of elegance that Albus was sure only a Slytherin could muster. He gave a soft smile before being knocked over from behind.

"Out of my way, Potter!" It was Malfoy.

Al had scrambled up to his feet, wandering over to where his trunk lay with his new green and silver scarves and crests. He was pretty excited about being in Slytherin, but then a thought, perhaps the sanest he had ever thought, told him "Gryffindor's better than this. There's a homey feel, and the people there are _nice_." He suddenly felt out of place. He hadn't had very many times when he was just mean for the hell of it. He wasn't the nicest to his siblings, he admitted, but he still loved them, and he wouldn't deliberately hurt either of them. What had he gotten himself into?

"I said out of my way, Potter!" Scorpius sneered again, pushing the other boy out of his path to reach the top bunk of the bed frame they were sharing. Albus shot a glare up at the blonde before standing back up and putting all his stuff where he wanted it.

An owl chirped and the blackette cast the bird a soft smile, "It'll be all right, Sierra. I can handle people like him." His brother had taken the name Hedwig for his own bird, so Al ended up using the first part of a Muggle drink's name. Sierra Mist, it was called, and he had fallen in love with it since the first time he'd tasted it.

"Are you talking to your _owl_, Potter? Or was that towards your invisible friend?" Came the sneer of the one above him.

Albus sighed, "My owl, Malfoy, has a right to know you're a prick."

"Ooo"s could be heard from the surrounding first years they shared a dorm with.

"You're mental, Potter. Just like that headmaster of ours."

"Come now, all great wizards had just a tinge of insanity in them."

"Whatever, Potter. Shut up and let me sleep." And Albus did. After sorting through his stuff and letting Sierra out to fly for a bit, he changed into pajamas and snuggled into bed, not waiting for his owl to return to let himself drift off to sleep.

He awoke with a cold splash to the face, letting out a shriek as the cold purged his unsuspecting facial nerves.

"Where did you learn to scream like that, Potter? Your baby sister?" Cackles were heard from all around the room.

"MALFOY, YOU BASTARD!" He continued to shriek, pulling his soaked pillow from beneath him to hit the smug blonde square in the face.

Slughorn entered not two seconds later, obviously appalled that one of the students he was planning to be most boastful about was making trouble. "Potter! Malfoy! What is going on?" He stuttered, confused.

"He dumped cold water on me!"

"He called me a bastard _and _hit me with a bloody pillow!"

"_After_ he dumped cold water on me!"

The Potions teacher shook his head, "I'll let it slip this time, but if I see you two fight anymore, I'll be forced to give detentions. I suggest you two get ready for class on opposite sides of the dorm. Good day." And with that, he turned and disappeared.

Albus grumbled all day long. Rose had pestered him all throughout the day as to why he ended up in Slytherin. He'd given her excuse after excuse as to why, and none of them seemed to satisfy her for more than a couple seconds. Malfoy had decided to stay away for most of the day, especially during Potions class. He wouldn't even allow their _possessions _to touch. Fine, whatever, Albus didn't care.

After his last class, Transfiguration, was when he ran into his older brother. James had been waiting for him, standing outside of the classroom until he was able to spot his younger brother. "Albus!" He angry cry made the younger Potter freeze. "Come here!" And the blackette complied, though he had little idea as to why. "How?" He stared his little brother down, almost glaring.

"I-I dunno…" He mumbled lamely.

"LIAR!!" And with a sharp push, Albus ended up on the floor. "Because of this, you will _never_ be a Gryffindor! _NEVER_! Is that what you want, Albus Severus?! Huh?!"

There was a crowd gathered now, watching the siblings with interest. Albus Severus? That's one juicy piece of gossip!

"W-What if... What if I'd rather be a Slytherin?!" Albus bellowed back, faltering somewhat out of fear.

His brother held a face that screamed betrayal. "_**WHAT?! **_You're a Potter, Albus! The son of the Boy Who Lived! How can you just through that away?!"

"I-I'm not throwing that away!"

"Yes, you are! Dad was a Gryffindor! He _detested _Slytherins!"

"No, he didn't!!" Albus screeched back, fumbling back up to his knees, "Listen to my name, James! _Listen to it!_ Albus Severus Potter! Father said I was named after two headmasters of Hogwarts and that one was from Slytherin and he was the bravest man he knew!!" The younger Potter was panting, out of fear of being disinherited by his brother, of what his uncle Ron had joked about the day before. It was truly terrifying to him. Albus loved his family. It was what kept him going every day. But now this…

"You lie!" His brother threw out in his last attempt to win the conflict. "You lie!" And with that he took off, towards the Gryffindor tower. Towards where he knew everything made sense. Towards where he felt right, where he felt like a hero, like his father. Towards his second home. Towards the place where his younger brother could never feel the same about. Towards sanity, or perhaps just towards a hiding place to keep him away from the brother who had shocked him so much. Away from the one who caused him that much pain. He felt so betrayed. His own brother, a Slytherin… It was too much to grasp.

Albus was still panting, but not nearly as much. Professor McGonagall had come outside, and she now stood next to him. "Are you all right, Potter?"

"No." He mumbled. Did he _look _all right? Hadn't the professor heard all that? He shook his head, "I'll leave now."

"If you want," She made sure to say before he had left, "You can go up to the Headmaster's office. To speak with the two you were named after, if that would help." His gaze was drawn up to her in shock.

"You can do that?"

"The password is 'Erumpent Horn'." She whispered into his ear and he took off just as quickly as his brother had.


	3. Sincere Shock

"Erumpent Horn!" Albus exclaimed to the Gargoyle that he heard was the door to the headmaster's office. It looked down at him and raised an eyebrow before sliding out of the way to allowing the first year inside. The Potter rushed to the stairs, climbing up them even as they started to move up on their own. When he reached the top, he hesitated. What is the headmaster didn't want to be disturbed? That was why he knocked first.

"Professor Lovegood is out at the moment." Came a friendly and politely toned voice. Albus decided that whoever was in there wouldn't be too harsh on him if he came in, so he slowly opened the door, peering inside. That was odd; he didn't see anyone in the office.

"Professor Lovegood is out at the moment." Repeated a colder, much harsher voice than the first which made him think over entering the office. But his mind was made and he opened the door the rest of the way and made his way inside, his eyes wearily looking out for any specters that could've been the cause of the voices.

"Look, Severus, he has your hair." The first voice spoke again, and Albus froze, turning back to face where it was coming from. An old man was smiling down at him. His spectacles shaped like crestant moons and his nose crooked with age.

"Humph," And the second voice answer the first. Right next to the old man rested a much darker portrait, the man portrayed having greasy black hair and cold, unforgiving eyes. His nose was also crooked, but Albus supposed it wasn't because of age, even though the man was far from young.

"Severus?" Al dared to asked, eyes glued to the second portrait.

"Yes?" Those cold, black eyes were now boring into his.

"That's your name?" He wanted to make sure.

"Yes. Why?"

"My name is Albus Severus Potter." He verified, and for a second, he thought he could see a little water coming to the dark man's cold eyes, and he could definitely see a softening of his expression.

"A Potter offspring," His voice had grown soft as well.

"Now, Severus, you wouldn't want to go all mushy with the rest of us here to witness it." Dumbledore replied with his usual cheerful smile.

That made the man harden back up to his regular stoic self, and shoot a look to the older headmaster.

"Professor McGonagall said I should come up here to talk with you." He added, a little intimidated by the air of wisdom the portraits held, though there were only two that weren't empty.

"Why did she suggest that?" The older one asked.

"I… had a fight with my brother." He mumbled, looking down at his feet.

"And what was that about?"

"A-About… me being in Slytherin."

The look of shock Snape gave had reduced Dumbledore to a fit of laughter.

"Potter offspring? A _Slytherin_?!" Severus hadn't even seemed to notice the older man's mocking laughter.

"Y-Yeah…Everyone else is surprised too. And James is really mad at me."

"James is your brother's name?"

"Yes…"

"I detest irony." Snape hissed bitterly.

"Now, now, Severus, the boy wants comfort." Dumbledore had fallen out of his fit and was now looking upon the boy with sympathy.

"Um, sure, may I ask what your name is?" Albus asked the older headmaster curiously.

"Albus Dumbledore." He replied with a smile.

So these two were the people he was named after. Albus and Severus. The younger Potter couldn't help but smile. "I think Father chose well in naming me."

"As do I," Dumbledore replied with a chuckle, "I am rather surprised that he chose Severus to be your middle name though."

"As am I. I would think he'd rather use Sirius's name." Snape agreed.

"Oh, well, he did. James Sirius Potter." Albus shrugged.

"Humph, figures. I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to name his daughter Nymphadora at this point."

"Um… Actually…"

"No.. Please don't tell me…"

"Lily Nymphadora Potter."

A palm was placed on Severus's forehead as he shook his greasy locks slowly. Dumbledore looked pleased. "Yes, well, that boy has a good choice in names." He said with a firm and solemn nod.

"You only think that because you ended up as a first name." Snape replied, letting his hand fall.

"Perhaps." Was the only reply. It was silent for a while.

"Severus," The dark man looked to the boy, "Were you close to my father?"

"Well, I was close enough to end up as a middle name to his son." Came the sardonic reply.

"No. That's not what I meant. Did you love him?" Albus asked timidly.

It was silent again. Dumbledore was turned to Severus, waiting patiently for the answer. While the other portrait had its eyes closed, obviously deep in thought.

"It's getting late, Potter, you should be off to bed."

_That_ was the reply he got? Albus made sure to glare at Snape long enough for the other man to catch on. "I won't go until you tell me."

"Professor Lovegood is on his way back. I'm sure you don't want to be caught in his office without his permission."

A little worried that this man held the power of giving him detention, he asked "Does that mean you won't tell?"

"Yes. If you'll allow me a few days to think that question over." Snape knew that it had been Harry that had gone through all the trouble of getting his headmaster portrait up on the wall, but in the nineteen years since his death, the potions master had never had a chance to talk to the boy. Well, he supposed the "boy" was now a man, so he could no longer call him that.

"Fine. Good night, Professors." And down the stairs the boy climbed.

A week had flown by and Albus still hadn't returned to the headmaster's office. Malfoy was pretty much leaving him alone, which he was grateful for, but his brother had been avoiding him. That struck a pain in his heart every time he would see James in the hallway while the other boy paid him no notice. Rose was no help. She had moved on to bigger and better things. Gryffindor things, and that didn't help lighten his mood any. Albus was terrible at making new friends, so he was pretty much alone.

In Potions class exactly one week later, Slughorn examined his worked with an expression of pure joy. "Excellent, Potter, excellent. Just like your father." A pat was given to the boy. "And just between you and me, I think you might be even better."

Albus smiled back politely, "Thank you, sir, but I really don't think I'm that great."

"No, no. You're living up to your name perfectly. Now, how would you like getting together with me and some other students on Saturday? It'll be lots of fun. I'm sure you'll be able to befriend lots of other bright students such as yourself." He continued beaming while he proposed this to Albus, which made him think of an old rat that was deceiving another into lending him his cheese. Al shuddered inwardly. Okay, so he wasn't so great at analogies.

"I, um, have plans Saturday." He'd needed to find a time to go back and talk to Severus and Dumbledore anyway.

"Oh, that's a shame. Are you sure you can't reschedule them?" Slughorn frowned now, contemplating him with what he recognized as suspicion. Had his father done the same thing?

"Not sure. I'll try and get back to you about it tomorrow."

"Very good." Slughorn piped back up, beaming once again. And then he was off to pester some other unfortunate student. Only if Albus found an absolutely _perfect_ plan to meet the portraits before then would he even consider going to Slughorn's little get-together. Though Al knew he indeed longed for friends, Slughorn just rubbed him the wrong way when he smiled. It showed too much greed.

"Albus."

On his way to Transfiguration, he froze. No way. Had he really heard Dumbledore's voice? Of course he hadn't. His portrait was in the headmaster's office.

"Albus." Repeated the voice, and as the young Potter turned to the wall, there he was, his body broken through the gaps of the other portraits, but he was there. Al brought a hand to his mouth as he bit his lip - it was all he could do from shrieking out loud. "Good, you've noticed me." Dumblebore smiled sincerely to the boy. "Severus was wondering what took you so long to show back up."

"U-Um… Well…" He tried to fish the right words from his brain. He failed and just stood there, silent.

"I'll fetch him here. Though I dare say this isn't a very private setting, it will do." Dumbledore shrugged and began to descend through the portraits.

"Wait!"

The old wizard looked up. "Yes?"

"He'd prefer a private area, wouldn't he? After all, the question I asked is personal… I have to go to Transfiguration right now, but I'll come to Professor Lovegood's office as soon as I can." He started off.

"Wait."

Albus Severus turned back around, confused.

"You've been excused from your Transfiguration class today."

"Why?"

"Because Severus wants to get his answer out. And because he wants to go into a long explanation as to why. It's very unlike Severus to do this, so I thought it crucial to get you to him before his out of character impulse dies down."

And that was how he ended up sitting in Headmaster Lovegood's office, staring at the portrait of Severus Snape, which was, most surprisingly and annoyingly, empty.

"If he wanted to talk to me so bad, why isn't he around?" Albus had wondered, sighing and slouching into a chair he had turned to face the portraits.

"Do not complain as if you are some immoral Hufflepuff," A seemingly ancient portrait scolded the student sitting before him.

"Who are you?" Albus had sit up, completely missing that the other portrait was occupied before now. He had also spotted some others in the room that weren't empty, but they were sound asleep. Nap time, apparently.

"Phineas Nigellus, the last Slytherin Headmaster before Professor Snape."

"Forgive me, then." Albus bowed his head a bit, trying to be polite. "I was just wondering where he got off to…"

"Yes, well, keep your Slytherin pride while doing so."

"Yes, sir."

Silence lingered. It wasn't a comfortable silence, but it was hardly tense. Just a silence to be endured until Professor Snape showed back up. Dumbledore had said Severus was a bit out of character… perhaps he had gone to buy some shampoo? From the look his locks had given off, he needed some desperately. Seconds were turning into minutes, and minutes into hours. Transfiguration was long over, and Albus was sure it was past curfew. He wondered why Professor Lovegood hadn't shown, but he didn't really care either. It just gave him something to think about.

"Perhaps he's not going to show…" Al had mumbled tiredly.

"Wait just a bit longer." Dumbledore advised, and so they waited.

And waited.

And finally… The familiar greasy locks that framed the usually stoic face had shown up; but something was different. Snape had a comforting air about him, and his expression was more than softened. "Severus?" Dumbledore asked, slightly baffled, "Where have you been?"

This complete change of Snape was terribly shocking, but no more so than what left his painted mouth next, "Albus, I have, I'm afraid, changed my answer. I do, indeed, love Harry Potter."


	4. Queer?

Albus stood there, agape, as Snape's expression hardened right after that statement had been said. Apparently the out of character shift in Severus's personality was over. As the dark wizard took in the surprised stares of the others around him (except Dumbledore, who was smiling in an annoying understanding way), "What?" He asked bitterly.

"I always knew you had it in you, Severus." Dumbledore answered, still smiling that smile.

"I had what in me?" Bitterness again.

"Oh, nothing." Came the blissful reply.

"Professor Snape…" Albus mumbled, still surprised, "You were absolutely serious when you answered my question, weren't you?"

That, in turn, made the Slytherin's face whiten considerably. "Explain _exactly _what you mean by that." He hissed, a tinge of fear in his eyes.

"When you said you loved my father, Harry Potter, you were serious, right?"

It was then that Professor Severus Snape, the great Half-Blood Prince, Master of Potions and lover of Dark Arts, went into another out of character moment, and did the one thing that no one had expected. He fainted.

"It seems," Dumbledore said, "That Severus had somehow had his personality altered."

"I bet it was you who made him do so, you old bat!" Phineas roared, "How dare you do such a thing to harm the pride of Slytherin House!"

"Now, now, what reason would I have to affect Severus in such a way?"

"You just said yourself 'I always knew you had it in you, Severus'."

"Professors…" Albus mumbled feebly, "I'm going to go to bed now." And with that, he wandered out of the headmaster's office and towards the Slytherin Common Room. He paused and looked around. The Common Room held even more elegance than the dorms. The couch well-kept and a beautiful deep, dark green. The fireplace glowing softly with the fading emerald embers. As his gaze continued around the room, he spotted the same second-year he sat next to the first day of school snogging Scorpius Malfoy. Al made a face and tried his best to move silently passed them towards his dorm, but he felt a shiver run down his spine. The snogging had ceased and Malfoy had spotted him.

"Potter," the bitterness in his voice might've equaled that of Severus Snape, if it were much more experienced in concentrating it into a shear sound of pure loathing, that is. Poor Scorpius was inexperienced.

"Malfoy, I do not want any trouble with you. I will not speak of this to anyone." He answered almost instantly, hoping that that was what the blonde had wanted to hear.

"Fine," Scorpius answered, but instead of going back to the second-year, he followed Albus up to their dorm. After the two silently settled down into their respective beds, Malfoy spoke up. "You know… I don't even know her name."

"Well, neither do I." Al replied lamely.

"_You _weren't with her for five hours… And to be honest, it wasn't all that fun. I can't believe how many older students snog 24/7."

"Maybe you've just fried your hormones."

"Humph, I really doubt that. I feel things other times."

"Like when?"

Silence from the top bunk.

"I see." Al said after a while.

"Shut up. I really do feel stuff! Sometimes…"

"Why are we having this conversation again?"

"Because I can't sleep."

"How thoughtful, Malfoy."

"… Shut up."

"You know, it's fine if you don't feel anything. We're only eleven after all. We really don't have as many hormones raging through our bodies as the older students do."

"How many times do I have to repeat myself? _I feel stuff!_"

"I don't believe you."

"Ugh. _Fine_. Don't believe me."

Silence.

"You know, Scorpius, I think we should talk like this more."

"Why?"

"Because it gives us a chance to bond without having to look each other in the eye."

"Humph, whatever."

"You're just mad because you've fried your hormones."

"Will you _shut up_ about that?!"

"So you admit it?"

"NO!" Their voices quieted considerably after hearing Goyle, who was in the bed next to them, stir rather noisily, along with a few others.

"It's just…" Scorpius started again, biting his lip the same way he'd seen Albus do so before, "I'm queer."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously."

A very long silence.

"… So, who do you like?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Maybe because it is me?"

"Like hell it is."

Albus got a smile out of that, "Sure."

Silence.

"You know what, Potter?"

"What?"

"I think you were right about talking like this more."

"Thank you, but I always knew I was superior to you in intellect."

"_What?_"

"Nothing."

"I think I hear Filtch making his rounds, so shut the hell up before I'm tempted to blast your face into oblivion."

"I'm impressed, Malfoy, I didn't even know you knew a word like oblivion."

"Shut _up_, Potter."

They both fell silent for a while, waiting for Filtch to pass through.

"Sorry, Malfoy, but you're just fun to pick on." Albus had started back up after they were sure the creepy old man had passed.

"And you're a lot more Slytherin-worthy than you let people let on."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're picking on me – Slytherins pick on people."

"You know… I think this is the first time I've been mean to anybody. I mean, for real, you know? With my family, we did pick on each other, but only in a kidding sort of way. I would never do so with the knowledge that I hurt their feelings."

"Well, Potter, it's always nice to learn."

"Thank you for helping me."

"Humph."

"You want a kiss as thanks?"

"I'm going to kill you…" The blonde hissed dangerously.

Al smirked. "Not if I kill you first. Maybe we could try to get some sleep before we both end up falling asleep in Potions?"

"Fine, whatever. Just… _don't_ tell anyone I'm queer or I'll kill you, bring you back and kill you again."

"Fine, whatever."

Albus just couldn't fall asleep though. He'd felt rather out of character himself when speaking to Malfoy. Maybe Snape was wearing off on him? Whatever it was, it felt creepy. He really hoped he wouldn't have to experience something like that again. He had to admit the experience was bonding… in a Slytherin sort of way, but he also felt no more need to be rude to the blonde. Then a thought came to him, what if Severus had suffered the same thing? Though his experience was a bit more… odd. Seeing the old Potions Master smile like that was a bit unnerving.

Maybe the mood swing was contagious?


	5. Vernal Equinox

The one review I feel the need to answer and I can't reply to them! So I hope she gets this.

**To LilyEvansSnape:** Thank you very much! I agree with the Snape deal – as he's supposed to act OOC. I thought this was a good way to do so. Breaking out of his little "I'm a major badass" bubble by bringing his emotions to the surface. I like both LExSS and HPxSS, but I won't have any HPxSS moments that can't be taken as simply platonic in this fic. I want to leave things a little like how J.K. would do (even though I doubt she thought of Draco's son as being gay) and add my own little weirdness to it. And anyway, I'll leave all the _real_ romantic scenes to Scorpius and whoever else I'm gonna decide needs a kissing scene.

The next day, Albus couldn't seem to get into the headmaster's office. He kept repeating "Erumpent Horn" over and over again, but the Gargoyle simply shook its head. That had gotten the younger Potter into a terrible mood. He wanted to ask Snape some questions about what he had said. He didn't really know how to word all of them – well, _any_ of them. But he knew he had questions for him, so he wanted to get in. Maybe Professor Lovegood had noticed that someone was visiting his office while he was gone and changed it? That sounded like the cause of this change. Al sighed on his way to Charms. Damn that white-going-gray old man.

He was too busy fuming about the headmaster that he hadn't noticed his cousin fall in line with him. "You don't look so good, Al…" Her expression showed concern. Why concern for him? Wasn't he some sort of blood traitor, being in Slytherin and all that?

"Oh, well, thank you for noticing." He replied bitterly, his emerald gaze focused on the ground in front of him.

"What's wrong?" Rose asked, throwing Albus a somewhat shocked look when Scorpius had approached the two.

"Potter, who's your friend?"

"My cousin, Malfoy." Al had wondered if they would ever be on a first-name basis, but perhaps it was two soon in the two's friendship to worry about it. They had just talked the night before and made peace. Apparently first-names didn't come along with peace.

Rose made a face at the blonde before looking back to Albus, "_That's_ what kind of friends who've been making? Are you sure you can't switch houses?"

"Duh you can't switch houses." Scorpius answered for Al. "The Sorting Hat knows what house is best, Weasley."

"Humph. Well I for one have known Albus all my life. I think I should know how to sort him much better than some dumb old hat that hasn't even seen him before."

"It's fine." Al hurriedly replied to Rose before the other Slytherin could start the insults. "I like being a Slytherin." That was mumbled rather shyly and as the three got to class, Scorpius left them to sit with his crony, Gregory. Rose started off as well, not glancing back to check whether Al would come along, and soon she settled in beside one of her goody-goody Gryffindor friends, Ginger. Her last name evaded Albus, as he wasn't so good at remembering such. He walked up to the front and sat down. Alone, he noted with a tinge of sadness, as he could feel both Rose's and Scorpius's eyes on the back of his head.

Charms had never been so slow to let out before, Al thought bitterly. Why had it chosen today of all days for it to last forever and get him in a worse mood? Today they were studying sea nymphs, the charmers of the sea, and how to defend against them, which would be to simply charm them first. Of course, the young Potter didn't care one bit about sea nymphs, as he didn't live anywhere near the sea and he was sure he would never stray too far out in the lake to have to worry about them. Besides, with how many times Flitwick was repeating himself, Albus was sure he already knew all that was needed. Nevertheless, he paid attention, as it would be much better than to turn and face the two pairs of optics that were boring a hole into his skull.

However, the lecture soon lost his interest and his mind wandered towards what the new password for Lovegood's office was. He hadn't bothered to look up what in the world an Erumpent Horn was, but now he was considering it. It could easily lead a trail to another password. But if the headmaster wanted to stop whoever was breaking into his office, he wouldn't make the password connected in any way to the previous one. Nor would he use something personal. It would have to be completely random, like sea nymph. Albus would have to try that one.

"Mr. Potter," the sound of his name quickly snapped Al's attention, "can you recite the three uses of magical seaweed in an encounter against a sea nymph?"

Magical seaweed? When had that come up? Albus shook his head, flipping through his book relentlessly to find the answer.

"Page 834."

"_Three ways to fend off a sea nymph with magically enhanced seaweed: Seaweed ingrained with magical properties can be used to distract a sea nymph. They are attracted to shiny objects, as the pirates that sailed through the oceans often had. Magically affected seaweed can also bind a sea nymph, as the creatures often hide within the plants. Lastly, the seaweed can take on a sharper form through magical enhancement, giving it blade-like qualities. Use of this method is suggested to be a last resort only._" Albus finished reading, looking back up to the professor.

"Very good." A dimpled smile came his way, though he could tell his teacher did not mean it. Al did not do a good job of reading, as it was flat and unemotional, but what else did Flitwick expect out of a textbook reading?

"Now class, practice makes perfect, so if you would follow me outside," And the rest of the class period was spent trying to charm seaweed. To put it simply, no one succeeded. After class was his lunch break, so Albus rushed off in a more-than-brisk walk to try out his password guess. Unfortunately, Rose caught up to him.

"What do you mean, you like being a Slytherin?!" Her voice was near hysteria – apparently she had been holding this question in all of the last period.

"I…" He thought for a moment. If he ended up wording it wrong, he would be sure to get backhanded. "Like change now and then."

"But why did you have to choose Slytherin? Why not Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw?"

"They don't have the same feel to them…"

"Well, duh! They're not totally evil!"

Al frowned, noticing that they were heading to the Grand Hall. He didn't want to eat, he wanted to solve Lovegood's password! "Actually, I think I need to use the lavatory." He mumbled as he attempted to stalk off from Rose. She caught his arm and continued to haul him to the Hall.

"Oh, no, you don't! You're going to hang out with Gryffindors today!" He was sure he felt his face twist up into fear. Rose's crowd of Gryffindors? Those goody-goodies? He was sure he wouldn't be able to stand it for long, being used to the Slytherins of his dorm. He wouldn't know how to act either. He, a Gryffindor turned Slytherin, which was worse than just a plain Slytherin, would have to sit with the most Gryffindorish of Gryffindors. He let his frustration out with a heavily concentrated sigh. It did little to help.

Geez, why couldn't Rose just let him be anorexic and skip lunch? Not eating sounded pretty good right about now. But no, his cousin had opened the double doors and soon they forced their way to the Gryffindor table. Albus wanted to cry out. Why couldn't this be against the rules? Why _wasn't_ this against the rules? Mixing houses is nasty business, but for some reason Rose just wouldn't understand. Most likely because she didn't read minds.

"Hello, Rose!" A bright smile was flashed towards the two before it turned skeptical. "Isn't he a Slytherin? Why is he here…?" He recognized Ginger and groaned inwardly as Rose shoved him in to sit next to the brunette.

"Yes, he is. And I'm going to make him feel bad about what he left behind." She plopped down on his other side.

"I really don't want to be here." He said to Rose, trying to make himself look as miserable as possible.

"Oh, hush, you! You'll be back to loving Gryffindor in less than five minutes, guaranteed!" His cousin's reassuring smile just brought him even more doubts.

"So… Albus, what do you like to do?" Ginger asked hesitantly, glancing across the table to the two sitting across from them who were apparently part of Rose's crowd. Both female, one with black hair and one with blonde. Al didn't recognize either of them.

"Speaking to snakes." This was partially true, him inheriting his father's parselmouth and all. Rose rolled her eyes while her friends just gaped at him.

"He likes to read and listen to his father's stories." She added on, shrugging.

This made the other three relax a bit more. "Can you really speak to snakes?" The blonde one asked quietly, almost in a whisper.

"Of course he can't."

"Of course I can."

The two lines were said simultaneously and the cousins blinked at each other. "I thought you knew I was a parselmouth."

"I-I thought you were just joking when you said that!" Rose's eyes were wide as she looked at him with shock. "Get away from us, you Slytherin!" And he was shoved to the floor, which caused a lot of heads to turn.

He hadn't expected that, and it chewed him up inside to hear his own cousin say that. She was his closest friend at Hogwarts, he had to admit, and now with this rejection, he was one friend less.

"So what if he's a Slytherin? You housist!" Another thing he hadn't expected – Malfoy coming to his defense. The blonde rushed over to the fallen blackette, holding his pale hand out.

Albus hesitantly took the hand and pulled himself up. A soft "thank you" was breathed as he turned back to face his cousin and her friends. They were aghast.

"Housist isn't a word!" The black haired one shouted back, glaring. "And we have the right as Gryffindors to keep the likes of _you_ away!" Murmurs of approval were echoed throughout the Gryffindor table.

Albus was just silent; he turned to leave the Hall. "Where are you going, Potter?" Scorpius grabbed the other boy's hand. "Are you just going to walk away?!"

Al nodded. "I was raised to believe the same thing they do, that Slytherins are evil. Let them believe that. In the end, they're the ones who are truly evil."

The Slytherin table's mood was lifted, for once in their life they seemed content as a whole, and a few students shouted "That's right, bitches!" and laugh in a rare moment of pride. He turned to leave again, only to find himself face to chest with, as he brought his eyes up, Headmaster Lovegood.

"That was an interesting scene, Mr. Potter. Now, are you the one who's been in my office?" The years had done well for Xenophilius. His new and few wrinkles gave him the wise old man affect Dumbledore had gotten; the only difference between the two was that Lovegood was appeared much younger, his hair was shorter and whiter and that his spectacles were star-shaped instead of crescent.

Emerald orbs blinked. How did he know? "Y-Yes, sir."

A kindly smile was given in return. "Come to my office after your classes have ended. I have something for you." He leaned down to whisper. "The password is now 'Vernal Equinox'."


	6. Skewed Joke

**A/N:** I just wanted to get this up here before I pass out from exhaustion.

Albus's blink was the first sign of life. Streams and gushes of questioning thoughts filled his mind, all too jumbled together to make any sense of the garbled mesh.

"Are you all right, Potter? You're completely white…" Scorpius waved a hand in front of the blank emerald stare. The headmaster had left a while ago, though for Al it had seemed nothing but a mere second. Time was standing relatively still on his end.

"No." His lips barely moved, "No, I don't think so. That was… bloody hell that was creepy." That air of intimidation, he just now realized what was causing his speed-up of reality. Lovegood must have enchanted himself to encase fear upon anyone who came near. But why? He didn't seem mad at the blackette.

"It was?" The other boy raised a blonde eyebrow unbelievingly. Okay, perhaps not. Malfoy didn't seem to be affected. Maybe it was just his conscience playing tricks on him. A forced smile was given.

"Yeah, it was, but I think I'm over it now." Or not. One look around at the staring faces made his smile disappear.

"You broke into Professor Lovegood's office?! You really _are_ a Slytherin!" James's voice rang out from behind him. Al winced before swiveling on his foot to glare at his older brother.

"And just what do you do with that Invisibility Cloak Father gave you? And the map as well – what do you use those for?!" Fury built up in his green glaring gaze.

"What I've done and what you did are two _very_ different things!"

"Oh, just because you have a way of not getting caught makes your crimes justifiable?!"

McGonagall had rushed over to the Gryffindor about to retort back and placed a hand on his shoulder. "James, if you are going to argue with your brother, please do so off campus." The look on his brother's face made Albus feel a lot better, but he frowned seeing as though McGonagall wasn't going to bust him for having the cloak and the map.

James stormed off, followed by the Gryffindor Quidditch team and his cronies. The owls flew in with the regular hooting, each of their talons gripping onto letters, packages, and the like. The mail had arrived. The retreating Gryffindors stayed long enough to see what was sent to them in the mail.

Daily Prophets were flying everywhere, along with letters, small boxes, and any other sign of the outside wizarding world you'd expect. Something hit him in the back of the head, and then something else. He swung back around, half-expecting it to be James trying to get a few punches in the mist of the ruckus. But no, as Albus's gaze fell to the ground, he spotted two letters lying on the stone tile. The first one didn't seem too bad, as it had the outward appearance of a friendly letter from home. Al's faltering smile recognized his father's scribble. But as he turned to the second, he recognized the blood red envelope of a howler. He swallowed. It was his mother's fine print.

"Looks like you're in trouble, Potter." Malfoy's snickering was ignored as he bent down to retrieve the letters. He'd open them later. If it were possible, he'd like to do so in the most private area of Hogwarts anyone could ever imagine. He cast a glance at his brother and saw that James had received two letters as well. Neither of them were red. Albus inhaled and exhaled shakily. Maybe he wouldn't take so long to open his father's, as he was more understanding. Maybe he'd even find comforting words within it.

"Aren't you gonna open them?" Malfoy again, and his smirk was evident in his voice.

"Not yet. Not in front of the whole school."

"Chicken," That caused Albus to turn and glare.

"Shut up, Malfoy." And soon Scorpius was hit with a letter as well. With that, Al stormed out of the Hall and rushed off towards… Well, he didn't know where he was going, but wherever it was, it would be free of other students. He took off for the grounds, hoping that he'd run into less Gryffindors if he did. He didn't care where he went from the grounds, he just ran as fast as he could, which got him far enough just to run into something large and hard.

"Oi! What's a bugger like you doin' ou' 'ere? Iddni' lunch time?" Two enormous hands took his shoulders and held him out for a pair of eyes to study him. Albus dared a glance upwards to recognize Hagrid; the half-giant's gaze became sympathetic when he spotted the howler the young Potter still grasped. "So 'hat's it."

Al nearly nodded and Hagrid brought a hand up to be placed comfortingly on his shoulder. "Well, why don' we go an' ge' some 'ea a' my place? I' migh' help."

He shook his head. He didn't need Hagrid's betrayal either. "I'll be okay on my own."

"Yer sure?" Albus nodded.

"Fine then, git to class now." And as Albus rushed back towards the school building, he thought he heard "Bloody Slytherin" muttered. He just rushed to Potions after grabbing his books, getting there before lunch had even ended. Slughorn beamed at the sight of the early arrival, though he did try to feign disapprovement. "Now, Potter, what brings you here this early before class?"

"I… just wanted to get away." He sighed, plopping down into a seat in the front row and letting his books topple off their stack.

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I got a howler from my mother." He mumbled, staring down at his lap.

"Ooo, that is never a good thing." He shook his head solemnly, "What did you get scolded for?" Albus could tell that his teacher had tried to mask the curiosity he had with sympathy. It didn't work, but Al still answered.

"I haven't opened it yet, but I'm pretty sure it's because of my being in Slytherin."

"Ah, yes. Ginny never did take well to Slytherin."

Emerald optics were lifted to blink at the Potions teacher. "You knew my mother?"

"Yes, I did. I was her Potions teacher for three years. Alas, I only taught your father for his sixth year."

"Oh, right." He paused, and then thought up another question. "Did anyone you teach ever become a Potions teacher like you?"

"No, I'm afraid not. At least… none of the students I still keep in touch with do."

So Slughorn hadn't taught Severus, or he'd just forgotten about him.

"Have you been able to reschedule your plans for Saturday?"

"Y-Yes, sir." He admitted reluctantly, his head hung for his inability to lie.

"Wonderful!" The Potions teacher was beaming once again. "Absolutely wonderful, Mr. Potter."

"Who all will be there?" He fidgeted in his seat.

"Oh, no one worth mentioning." Al figured that must mean James was going. He was sure Slughorn knew the brothers were fighting.

"So, what are we studying in class today?

"Just touching an introduction to Polyjuice Potion, and moving right along to a simple potion on how to change eye color."

"Polyjuice Potion? What's that?"

"It's very advanced potion-making, but I'll let you wait until class to learn more about it."

Albus frowned. "Fine."

They were silent for a few moments, but Slughorn glanced at his clock which had changed from "Lunch" to "Period 5". He hurried back into his office and soon the classroom filled with students. Again, Al could feel both Scorpius's and Rose's eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. But, oddly enough, the class went by rather quickly. He learned that Polyjuice Potion enabled the drinker to take on any humanoid shape, but that was all. After class he waited until everyone had left the room, and then he stood up and left as well.

Scorpius was waiting for him. "Did you open that howler yet?"

"What's it to you?" Albus sneered.

"Tch, what's with that tone, Potter?"

Al stopped in his tracks, turning to glare full force at the Malfoy, "I have no friends, my brother hates me, my sister is disgusted by me, my mother is outraged, the headmaster found out I was sneaking into his office, and you want to know what's with my_ tone_?!"

"Okay, okay, I get it. You're an emo." The satiric remark could only have been made by a Slytherin.

"I'm not an emo!"

"Say that to your hair."

"You know what, Malfoy? Shut up!" And off Albus stormed, his every nerve seething with rage beyond what he could ever imagine. His life was an absolutely skewed joke. Why couldn't _anything_ go right for him? Clearly all his father's serendipity had gone to his brother, as Albus Severus only seemed to have misfortunate of a scathing world falling around him. At the moment, he was extremely servile to his emotions, so instead of continuing onto Transfiguration, he wandered the halls for a small room, perhaps a broom closet, to get away from everything in.

It didn't take long; soon he spotted an unfamiliar door. He peered inside, and it appeared to be an old janitor's closet, though it was cleaned out and completely vacant. Perfect. He quickly retreated into the small space and closed the door behind him. It was completely black inside, as there wasn't even a little sliver of light coming in from beneath the door. Albus felt around, his hands trailing along the smooth walls to find a back corner for him to plop down in. As soon as that was accomplished, he tried his best to keep his body and mind sedentary.

Time passed. Seconds, minutes, hours, and yet it was at a complete standstill. Albus just sat there, doing absolutely nothing. Then he thought, why not read his letters from home? He stood up, digging in his cloak to pull out his oak wand. A dragon whisker was its center.

"_Lumos_." His father had taught him the spell, and sure enough a scintillating burst of magic illuminated the small closet with enchanted light. And with his free hand, he took out the two letters he'd received from his parents. He certainly wasn't in the mood for his mother's rant, so he put the red envelope down and peered at his father's scribbled version of his name. It looked scrupulous – something he wouldn't expect of his father – and at the same time sanguine. He had heard once that you could tell a lot by looking at a person's handwriting. Albus wondered if that was true.

He tried his best to remove the seal as carefully as he could. He had an odd habit of wanting to preserve envelopes as best he could. He never knew what he'd use for any of them after they were open, but he felt that he had an obligation to at least keep the name addressing whoever it was the letter was going to in tact. And after he'd succeeded in opening the envelope, he pulled the many pages that were stuffed inside out. He counted them all first. Five pages front and back. Apparently his father had a lot to say.

Albus sighed, shook off the sense of fear that crept up inside of him, and began to read.


End file.
